


Punched in the Feels

by mochibuni



Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon
Genre: Angst, Drama, Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-14 01:17:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16903362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mochibuni/pseuds/mochibuni
Summary: A collection of random short one shots previously posted elsewhere, most examining a musing or tidbit left unexplored. Such as what happens when the girls die in battle? How did Sailor Pluto age at the Gates of Time? Did Mako have a family she left behind after her parents died? Did Mamoru ever recover his memory of his parents?Most are angsty, dramatic little things because being punched in the feels is fun.





	1. When Sailor Guardians die...

**Author's Note:**

> Mochi, why are you like this??? I hear a lot when I actually get around to writing anything, let alone posting it. I like musing about what ifs and whys, and what would this look like? With a heavy dose of attempted poignancy, emotion, and thoughtfulness-- some I think come close and others not so much. So I present to you another chapter in my ongoing need to explain things in Sailor Moon that I hope punches you right in the feels.

**When Sailor Guardians die, are their bodies left behind?**

When Mars goes out in a blaze of glory leaving the shell of Rei Hino behind, does Jupiter carry her body back to the shrine, curled inwards and nestled safely against Jupiter’s chest? Moon holds Rei’s hand so she’ll feel less alone. Mercury flanks the opposite side, a startled sob stretched into an apology every time she bumps Rei’s foot. Venus walks in front, steady, and never looks behind.

Do they quietly wake Grandpa Hino, gloved knuckles grazing against centuries old wooden screens. Grandpa Hino gingerly takes Rei into his hands, the four dropping to their knees.

They attend her funeral and pay their respects to her life as a miko. She’s buried next to her mother and they spend every year after tending to their graves on cleaning day. Makoto makes sure to bring an extra bunch of flowers. “Risa would love them,” Grandpa Hino nods.

**When Sailor Guardians die, are they erased from civilian minds?**

Apartment 201 should be vacant, completely empty, the landlady thought to herself as she stepped through the foyer. There had been no history of residency for years, it was rather odd that she hadn’t rented out the unit this entire time. In fact she had only remembered it existed when a girl called inquiring about spaces to rent.

The space was a bit dusty for sure, but it was tidy and nicely furnished, colored in hues of green and pink. Pillows dotted sit-able furniture and rugs ran the length of the hardwood floors. It was comfortable and homey, warmed with pictures of lively school girls and sleeping cats. If it wasn’t for the dead plants filled in almost every nook and cranny, she would have said it felt very alive.

The landlady cleaned it up, though kept it the way it was, marketing it as a fully furnished unit. The potential renter seemed pleased by the space, her light blue eyes sparkling at the sight. The landlady knew the girl felt at home, grateful at the ease of renting the unit so quickly. “And over here, Miss Aino, is a lovely bay window, unique to this floor plan– Miss Aino?”

But the girl had vanished, and so had all the pictures.


	2. Father Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We see Pluto take her post at the Space-Time Door at a young age and somehow she grew older, how did she age?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mochi, why are you like this??? I hear a lot when I actually get around to writing anything, let alone posting it. I like musing about what ifs and whys, and what would this look like? With a heavy dose of attempted poignancy, emotion, and thoughtfulness-- some I think come close and others not so much. So I present to you another chapter in my ongoing need to explain things in Sailor Moon that I hope punches you right in the feels.

I have this nagging idea about Pluto’s physical appearance and her dad if we take it literally that she’s the daughter of Chronos. That Chronos was a real being, the king of Pluto and the God of Time, and sent his youngest daughter to the Moon Queen as she requested, with a hunch that she’d ask his daughter to properly take up the mantle of Sailor Pluto and guard the Space-Time Door.

He felt a pang of guilt, of course, because the door had been left vacant for centuries during the planetary war, not wanting his daughters left as targets should the other planets learn to access the pocket of time. He was grateful when the Moon Queen ended the war and peace was agreed upon, but it also broke his heart when his youngest elected to take on the time honored tradition of Sailor Pluto.

So he sent her, in her small uniform and the Time Key towering above her head. But in his shame he stole away inside the kingdom relic, the Garnet Orb, that sat upon the key staff, worried of what would happen to his youngest daughter.

She was quiet and stoic, her presence like a whisper at the end of a life. She accepted the Queen’s favor and readily began her never ending life as the Guardian of Time removed from time itself. Yet it was curious that her child body continued to grow in a place where time did not touch. And yet it did, because Chronos had remained inside the Garnet Orb, time itself watching over her.

So Pluto continued to age, the Time Key becoming less and less tall to her growing stature, and Chronos continued to live on inside the Orb to be near his youngest daughter– until the fateful day that even time itself cannot stop. Chronos’ soul slipped away, like a whisper, like a memory Pluto had long forgot.

That’s when her aging stopped.


	3. Storms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What are storms like for the Kino family?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mochi, why are you like this??? I hear a lot when I actually get around to writing anything, let alone posting it. I like musing about what ifs and whys, and what would this look like? With a heavy dose of attempted poignancy, emotion, and thoughtfulness-- some I think come close and others not so much. So I present to you another chapter in my ongoing need to explain things in Sailor Moon that I hope punches you right in the feels.

It stormed the night his children died, he remembered it very clearly. It crackled and howled like the welling in his chest. It poured in streams down the window panes and from two round cheeks cupped between his weathered hands. He gathered his granddaughter into his lap, a heap of limbs quickly outgrowing him by the day. Her eyes illuminated green from the flashes of thunder, her hair curled and tangled like a rolling storm cloud. They sat and listened, waiting for the storm to drown them out.

Last year she left him for Tokyo, for a new school and a new start. She had been a quiet and cheerful girl, but these last few years of growing and never feeling quite right caught up. She fought and she yelled, thundering every day until he finally agreed to let her go. He dropped her off in Juuban on a rainy day. It clung to both of their cheeks, pooling and wet, as she looked down to say goodbye and he looked down at his toes.

“A dark cloud has stretched over Japan, the storm is expected to continue through the night. Experts are unsure of the origin, other than it seems to be coming from the Arctic…”

The radio buzzed, static coming with the smattering of drops splashed against the window pain. He sat in his chair nearest the window like he did the night his children died, hands folded into each other without a cheek to hold or a back to comfort. Lighting streaked through the sky, met with a roll of thunder and a downpour of rain, and instinctively he knew.

“Gods take my Mako-chan to her parents,” he prayed, waiting for the storm to drown him out.


	4. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of Mamoru's car accident.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mochi, why are you like this??? I hear a lot when I actually get around to writing anything, let alone posting it. I like musing about what ifs and whys, and what would this look like? With a heavy dose of attempted poignancy, emotion, and thoughtfulness-- some I think come close and others not so much. So I present to you another chapter in my ongoing need to explain things in Sailor Moon that I hope punches you right in the feels.

He doesn’t remember much since the accident. Fragments of colors, feelings, smells. Later he would dream in movement; a slight smile, pressing onigiri together with bigger hands, a back dressed in starched white shielding his face. Even later it would be in sound; a slip of laughter, this is how we press them my little one, and a shrill command of Protect Our Son cracking through the air.

But for now at the age of six he only remembers fragments, and some he is unsure if he remembers or remembers because he is told. But he knows he had a family, he knows he had a home. When he is well enough his social worker takes him to the places where his parents rest currently and where they used to.

Inside their room he’s given a moment to be alone. He’s relieved to relax his face, drawing up his frown into a blank stare. He knows he had a family, he knows that this was their home, but he doesn’t feel he had a family and he doesn’t feel that this was his home.

He wanders through the room deciding he at least ought to care. The bed looks freshly made with neat corners, dripping in a butter yellow. A malshapen plush bunny rests on the pillows. His brow furrows, the image sitting on the edge of something, but unable to place it he moves on.

Curiously he slides open the closet, might as well commit he decides, and inside is an array of fabrics and colors. Odd graphic shirts with mosquito coils, pink button downs, purple trousers, and a vast array of blazers. He fingers an olive green one and the smell hits him. Clean, but also peppery. It stings his eyes.

After a long while the social worker quietly raps at the door, “Mamoru-kun?” she calls pushing herself into the room.

She finds him nestled in a pile, limbs curled around shirts, pants, and blazers, fast asleep. Mamoru knows he had a family and this was his home.


End file.
